


Wish I may, Wish I Might, have the wish I make Tonight

by ThePunkiest



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: sort of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 15:21:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6157972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePunkiest/pseuds/ThePunkiest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You finally agree to go on a date with America, but he takes you somewhere you never expected.</p><p>Is it a joke?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wish I may, Wish I Might, have the wish I make Tonight

"You piss me off SO MUCH, sometimes!" You murmured into his ear as you sat in his lap. You two had been playing a game of cat and... Dog, for a few weeks now. America, of course filling the role as dog because HE HUMPED LITERALLY EVERYTHING IN SIGHT. You as the cat because whenever he tried to hump you, you UNLEASHED A FLURRY OF OPEN PALMED SLAPS TO HIS FACE. And just like a dog, he always pulled back and looked a little bit dazed, not harmed in the slightest. It was time to finally turn him off of you for good; not that he wasn't attractive, but... He was intimidating, in all honesty. And you didn't think you could deal with a nation as a boyfriend. Too much baggage. "Aw, (f/n), you came to visit me!" He exclaimed as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist. You grit your teeth and suppressed the urge to rip yourself from him and grab a beer, but man it was tempting. "Yes, United States of America," you smiled sweetly and turned around to face him, "I did." His ever present grin wavered a bit, and you could feel a shiver run through him. You imagined that he hadn't been called that in a long, long time. "So, uh," he swallowed, "here to take me up on my offer on the best date ever?" You stared at his face, calculating your next move. He was actually NERVOUS. AMERICA! NERVOUS! His pupils were dilated (sexual attraction), his heartbeat was fast, and he licked his lips. And maybe his dick was pushing up into your nethers, but hey! You knew how to read a person! Like a friggin BOOK! “So,” you smiled and ground your hips lightly against his erection, “where shall we go?”

 

* * *

 

 

He took you to a drafty old fort. You had imagined a sports bar filled with frat boys, a chocolate factory, or, hell, even a fuckin’ MCDONALDS.

You did _not_ expect him to drag you somewhere so musty.

“America...” You grumbled as he walked onto the premises, not giving a damn that the attraction was closed to visitors. “America, we should _wait_ for somebody...” You tried to stop him and grab his hand, but he moved quicker than a bolt of lightning, and captured your hand in his. You scowled, but let him hang on. His palms were oddly clammy. He also hadn’t spoken much on the way to the fort, even when spoken to; there was something on his mind.

And his eyes looked sad.

You kept quiet as he pulled you inside the building. The ancient floorboards creaked under your soft footsteps, and America never let go of your hand. You and he had barely made it into the kitchens when he stopped dead in his tracks.

“America?” You asked, concerned, and squeezed his hand some. His eyes were lowered to the ground, and you could see the burden weighing down his shoulders. “This is...” America murmured, and you had to crowd him to pick up his words properly, “This is where I fell in love for the first time. And... Where I lost many friends.” He finished, and, in shock, your hand slipped from his sweaty one. He glanced at you, his eyes still downward, but did not reach for you again. “I fell in love with E-Elizabeth Pratt,” America continued, but flinched when he said the woman’s name, and looked fearful for a moment. “She was... A kind woman. Married with a daughter, but I loved her none the less. She used to... To...” America’s eyes were overflowing, though hidden by his bangs, and you reached for his hand again, squeezing it. “T-thanks...” He stuttered, and took a deep breath. “She used to sneak me pastries. One day, she said how nice it was to have a young man around helping out, like having a _son,”_ His shoulders tensed, and you knew his heart was breaking all over again, “And I remember the lemon square she made me tasting too sour.” You could not express your empathy, so you hooked an arm around the aching man’s shoulders and kissed his cheek, salty with his tears. His head shot up and he grabbed hold of your jaw, making your lips pucker, and

Kissed you sweetly. His saliva was thick, his lips were too salty, you could feel tears spill from his eyes onto your cheeks, but...

This was _perfect._

America separated from you, gasping for a mournful breath, and wrapped his arms around your waist. “I- I,” He tried to speak, but he couldn’t seem to choke out the words, drowned in sorrow as he was. You rubbed his cheek, and pecked him on the lips again. He shuttered, and you felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention. “I- I came here...” He whispered, “To ask forgiveness for seeking revenge on her, by... By stealing her daughter away from her, and...” He took a breath, “And for giving my love away to somebody else.”

He looked at you then, his eyes lucid and clear, however aged and sad and infinite; and in his beauty, you found a spark of love so impassioned and lovely, your heart pounded. “I love you,” He said, and pressed his forehead against yours, “You are my wishing star.”

The world ended as you accepted him, once and for all, and kissed him so sweetly, tears sprung from his eyes and he laughed in pain, happiness, regret, and hope.

He wouldn’t let you go. Not then, not ever.


End file.
